Title: Visus
Author: DTaishou
Rating: T+
Summary: ONESHOT – Sequel to Ortus – Contains somewhat graphic scenes
.oOo.
"Potter, I'm going to give you one chance!" He listened and observed from the shadows as his faithful stormed the Department of Mysteries. The prophecy was what he needed, and if his Death Eaters were thrown in Azkaban for their efforts to retain it then so be it. The prison was easy enough to break. "Give me the prophecy – roll it out towards me now – and I may spare your life!" Ah, his little insanity. Always direct, that one.
"Well, you're going to have to kill me, because it's gone!" He paused. At first he was uncertain and then…
Rage.
Blinding rage. The boy felt it too. The brat matched his insanity's mad laugh with one of his own and proceeded to humiliate and scream back at the insanity. The woman cowered before him as he appeared. His dark form radiated fury and rage in his superior power.
"Don't waste your breath!" Potter yelled. He could sense that the boy was weak and tired. The loss of his dear godfather must have taken a mighty toll. He grinned beneath his death-like hood, and the woman at his feet recoiled and begged forgiveness. "He can't hear you from here!"
"Can't I, Potter?" he hissed. The confrontation escalated. He had been so close. So desperately close to relieve that thorn from his side that had been Potter when he appeared. Albus Dumbledore. Meddlesome old bastard, always barging into his business as though he mattered. The light of the matter, dare he say, was that a challenging duel was perhaps to be offered. The confrontation escalated.
He found, with great annoyance, that with his screaming insanity around that he could not concentrate. There was an absence that he felt distinctly as he battled the Headmaster and it intensified when he flitted hidden exasperated looks to the dark complexion of his insanity. The Demon was not here in her overpowering dark glory, and he felt the need to be with her once more, but not without a little leaving treat.
"Kill me now, Dumbledore," he hissed through the agonized form of the boy he possessed. He wrenched and twisted the fragile child's mind in pain, and he relished in its suffering.
"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy." At this, he left the boy's mind. The welling of love in its core disturbed him. He grabbed the woman at his corporeal side and disappeared. The Demon was waiting for him in the Entrance Hall of the Manor along with the rest of his corps. He sneered as he threw the sobbing woman to the ground and swept to his throne-like chair.
"The prophecy was destroyed," he spat. A collective shiver. A dangerous hiss from the Demon. A wail from his insanity. "I am most disappointed. I will deal with you all later. If I kill you all now, it would be troublesome regaining allies." He dropped his head into his hands as the Death Eaters disappeared and the Demon retook her proper form. Familiar black claws entangled in his hair and jerked upwards. She was not gentle. Ever.
"It appears that destroying the Potter boy when I had the chance would have been the proper decision." Was that regret that he heard in her voice? "He is proving to be much more troublesome than I had anticipated." She straddled his lap and pressed his back against the throne. Her leathery black wings reached out behind her and grasped at air. Her claws dug deep into his shoulders but he refused to cry out. Scarlet locked with scarlet.
"You appear to have sustained injury," she hissed, and they were at once within his chambers upon his bed. The fire roared. The springs creaked. "Allow me to tend to those lacerations." Her tongue crept from her lips and traced the deep gashes her claws had created. His robes were torn from his body, followed shortly by his silken blouse. He hissed as bloody claws traced abstract patterns over his chest and abdomen.
"It appears," the Demon stated slowly, "that this particular spell has left you scarred." She traced the silvery diamond with a claw. "I refuse to have my wind marred by means other than my own." He withheld a gasp of pain as the scar was torn from his flesh. The Demon purred at the sight of flesh blood, and the soft, skilled tongue that brushed suggestively against the graze slowly healed the injury without blemish. He breathed in deeply and exhaled shakily.
"You must stop doing that," he chided softly. Garnet eyes looked up to meet his, though her ministrations did not stop. She grinned that dripping grin, and her teeth clicked shut as she straightened. The bloody fangs glinted in the torchlight.
"So my Lord commands," she sneered. He grinned at her but winced when her claw stroked dangerously close to the newly healed flesh. The Demon smirked and unfurled her wings around them, and the fire flickered out of existence. The numerous floating candles that surrounded them glowed with a scarlet light. He did not move only stared. Beautiful but deadly, sweetness but poison. How true.
"Beautiful," she hissed down at him and drew clean claws through his disheveled black hair and over his smooth white skin. "My beautiful little dark child, thwarted by the brat of Light." He knew when he was being mocked but remained silent all the same. He took enjoyment from the light touches from the Demon. He reversed their positions in a rare show of domination. Judging by the surprised but pleased look in her crimson eyes, the Demon did not mind.
"Beautiful but deadly," he hissed in response. Trailed clawless fingertips through her inky black hair. Brushed over the cryptic black markings on her face. "A sweetness that is also poison but so addicting that I cannot stop using it." He nuzzled her collarbone and nipped the smooth skin of her slender neck. She shivered beneath him, and he took intense pleasure in the forbidden act. No other mortal had conquered the Demon, and he would prefer to keep it that way.
"Belonging only to the Dark Lord but enslaving him as well," he continued, placing open-mouthed kisses upon her flesh. Collarbone, neck, jaw line. Fallen to his ministrations. Well placed touches and rhythmic strokes. A smirk.
"Enslaving the Dark Lord," the Demon hissed as she flipped him beneath her and responded in an equal manner. "Enslaving the Dark Lord and keeping him only to herself, most angered if any other were to even think of touching him, for he belongs to her and her alone." She brought serrated fangs and claws grazing over his skin.
"Enslaved but pleasured. Is it not to die for?" she hissed. He blinked and smirked up at her.
"Haven't I already?" The Demon grinned the dripping bloody grin and sampled the flesh of his lips with her own. He returned the kiss greedily but lost the battle. Her power was overwhelming. Intoxicating.
"Never shall you die again. I shall make certain of it."